The Hunters Chapters 610
by Drake0 and Fallon Darkblade
Summary: Here is the second installment of the book
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 6 -ETB

I love how easy it is to get them all fired up. It makes the game so much more fun. Otherwise they think too much, and then they might do somethin stupid, and that would screw everything up. Now Fang's gonna go destroy the police station; but, she's gonna be long gone before it blows. That's just her style, as I said, so very predictable. Now, to upload my controls.

Chapter 7 -Fang

I am not predictable. I came up with a plan to shake ETB of my trail. I'll show him predictable. I'm sneaking into the police headquarters. I'm going to blow it sky high. That will show ETB and that stupid cop. Amusing, I am not amusing. The exterior bombs are set. Once I place the explosives inside the foundation will be gone, and the whole place will come crashing down.

Getting in will be interesting. I deactivated the security system, which was easier than I expected. The patrol passes as I hide in the shadows. I run to the door. The door has a techno lock, I don't know how to open that kind. I try the handle, just in case. The door swings open. Wow, they are even dumber than I thought. They pay for an expensive lock and then don't even use it. Morons. I walk through a deserted hallway.

You know, I always thought that a police station might have oh I don't know—Police! Apparently, I thought wrong.

I finish planting the interior bombs, when I hear familiar footsteps behind me. Have you ever had that feeling of extreme déjà vu? Well this is that for me. Except I learn from my mistakes.

The gun was aimed already. I just have to shoot. I pull the trigger, waiting for a scream; but, all I hear is a click.

Chapter 8 -Marks

Why am I not dead? I just had a gun fired at me from ten feet away. It's not like she could have missed. Is this a joke? I mean, a top notch thief going—alone—into a high security building, without even checking her weapons first? I did wake up after they took the bullet out, didn't I? This is insane! So now we have locked gazes in a classic stare down. My gun, if I can just get it out fast enough. I reach down. Only to realize that its by the computer, in my office, waiting to be reloaded. Typical. Not that it matters, we're playing on my field after all, and everybody knows that the home team has the advantage. I will take this rat down, if I have to break her legs to do it.

The fight begins. She hooks her leg behind mine and pulls. I fall. Great. Why do people make floors so blasted hard? My vision starts to cloud over, but I push the mist away. The malfunctioning gun is lying on the ground. She must have dropped it, but I can't quite reach it. I'll have to move. With my right hand, I grab her ankle. I use the momentum of pulling back to roll forward, grabbing the gun in my other hand. She falls to the ground, crashing down fairly hard. With the same movement, I smash the gun against her temple. This particular specimen of lowlife scum is finally out cold. I hope the floor is as kind to her as it was to me.

I cuffed her hands behind her back. I'm not going to take any chances, especially not with this one. The cuffs might be a little tighter than is necessary; but I did just hit my head, after all, no wonder I wasn't thinking entirely clearly.

In the end though, incapacitating her wasn't anywhere near as difficult as I had thought it would be. Unfortunately, this job isn't over yet.

Chapter 9 -ETB

It seems as though it should be checkmate. However, I wouldn't count the queen out just yet. She's quite the fighter; and just when you think you've got her cornered, it turns out she's got the drop on you.

Now, things are going perfectly in line with my plan. Mind, it's not as if I haven't put in my own share of work. I mean really, it positively astounds me the amount of work you have to do for people: open doors, turn off cameras, screw up guns, give anonymous tips, and all without them realizing it; it's as though I'm their mother, for goodness sakes! No one, and I mean no one appreciates the difficulties of being a mastermind.

They think it's all fun and games. It's like working with children!

I must admit though, I am impressed. I never, in a million years, would've guessed that he'd get her down so quickly. So, points for Marks. Not that he's not gonna have a fight on his hands when she comes to. The best part is, the idiot is gonna try and interrogate her, as if that'll do any good. Though, he should figure it out soon….

Chapter 10 -Fang

Have you ever been dreaming and thought 'if I close my eyes, once I open them, everything will be all right? That is exactly what's going on now. Except, I just opened my eyes, and nothing's changed. I woke up, a while ago, chained to a chair, with a strange woman removing all my guns. Not to mention all my effects, she took my belt, my locket, even my ring. What's up with that? Oh no, she's got a ring, look out that thing is dangerous! I mean really? I am currently chained to a chair, in an interrogation room, in the dark, all alone, just as I have been for the last three hours. Also, my wrists are all cut up from, so I look like a bloody emo. I have my 'friendly, neighborhood cop' to thank for that; him and his bloody handcuffs. Did I mention that those bloody things CUT me?

Suddenly, the lights came on. After three hours in the dark, fluorescent lights are what can only be described as 'cruel and unusual punishment'. I should sue. The door swings open, and in walks Mr. sunshine himself, as if it isn't bright enough in here already. He looks unusually happy; and by happy, I mean ticked off.

"So, let's start with the basics: Who are you? Who do you work for? What do you want? Why didn't you kill me? How did you get my phone number?"

"That's an awful lot of questions, and I will need you to repeat them all, one at a time, slowly."

Not, that I plan on answering them, but at least I can get some entertainment out of this situation. I smiled.

"Do you think this is a game?"

"Yes, and I plan to win."

I can see he's losing patience, and fast. He turns to the people I know are behind the two-way mirror, and nods. There is a moment where nothing seems to happen, and I wonder what that was about. Then, the light on the camera stops flashing. In fact, that little light stops altogether. I must admit, I'm impressed. I hadn't thought that there would be a dark, cruel side to this one.

"OK, here's the deal. We can do this the easy way, where you answer my questions and I tell the judge you cooperated. Or, we can do this the hard way, where I beat the snot out of you and you disappear without a trace. Which is it going to be?"

He sounds like he might actually mean it. I've got to wonder what happened to the do-gooder cop who was incorruptible; crazy as it sounds, I think I'm starting to miss him.

"You know, Sherlock; I really don't think you've got the guts for that."

Pain. That's all I know as he punches me, full in the face. Apparently I was wrong. Shoot. This is going to be a very long day.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 11 -Marks

Crap. I beat that piece of filth unconscious, and she didn't even scream. I wanted her to scream. I wanted her to feel the pain and the fear that Grace must have felt. I had seen what she had had, and that told me what she did.

After I knocked her out, I'd take her down to the holding area, where Teresa had taken her belongings, to be used as evidence. I had gone to see what I was dealing with. The list had come out something like this: three guns, one knife, two smoke bombs, a belt with a wicked-looking, dragon shaped buckle, a ring and a locket. It was the locket that had caught my eye. I'd thought the picture inside it would give me a place to start looking. What I had found was beyond belief.

There were two things in the locket, a simple, iron ring and a very old note. I had unfolded the note and begun to read.

Bond,

I hope you don't hate me after you read this. It is my choice to go. You have to understand, there is nothing left for me here. I hope to see you and Fallon again, but only time will tell. I don't want to leave you, but I have to find my own way. That's why I can't come with you. I'm sorry I lied. I hope you can forgive me. Yours truly,

Grace

The first thing that came to my head was. How on earth did the Heartbreaker get her filthy hands on this? The second thing was the answer. It was too horrible to say. Now, I knew why I hadn't heard from Grace in years. That was about the time that I had gone to see my prisoner. As I had walked to the holding cell, the memory of that fateful day was playing in my mind.

I was in my car. Grace had finally agreed to go to the academy with me. I would miss Fallon, but she didn't really need us anymore. She could take care of herself now. That's when my phone rang. It was an iPhone, the one I'd always wanted. I answered, it was Fallon. She told me the worst news I would ever hear, until now. Grace was gone, and had been for some time. No one knew where she had gone, and she had left without a trace. My heart was broken, as I drove toward my future; one where I would never see her again. She hadn't even said goodbye.

It was that pain that had led to my emotional outburst. It might have been a foolish decision, but I was far from regretting it.

It was after that, when I was still in a very agitated state that I had seen the ring.

I had given it to her for her twelfth birthday; it had been a loan of sorts. She was leaving for the summer, and she had promised to return it when we were together again.

Now I'm starting to calm down. I'm finding out that I am actually capable of rational thought again, at least a little. So, now that the toggle switch on my brain is pointing to the 'on' side, I'm beginning to wonder: Why on earth would the Heartbreaker keep this stuff? The only value the ring could ever have is sentimental; and the note wouldn't mean anything to anyone who didn't know us. So why keep them for all these years? It doesn't make any sense. That is a recurring theme with her though, not making sense.

I realize, for the first time, that my hands are covered in blood; and not all of it's hers. I seem to have burst most of the skin on my knuckles. I should have seen that coming.

Since I had calmed down enough to look at her file without smashing the computer to bits, I thought I should probably do that. First things first, let's get rid of this blasted blood.

Now then, to the files.

The Heartbreaker:

Eyes: green

Hair: Blond with black highlights

Height: 66"

Designation: thief

WARNING Is extremely dangerous. Extremely dangerous? My shoulder can testify to that! Has been known to kill. Capture if possible, but lethal force is authorized if necessary. Blah, blah, blah Is in Custody. No, really? Has abstained the right of trial. Only in Secret Operations can you find that sort of thing. To be terminated. And, they finally get to the point.

Well, that was fun. And oh, look there is actually a fingerprint. Let's see.

No. Please, no. Anything but that.

See, when we were kids, Grace, Fallon, and I had decided that instead of signing correspondence with our names, we would use fingerprints. We thought it was the coolest thing; and we got to the point where we knew each other's prints as well as we knew their faces.

And, I know this fingerprint.

Chapter 12 -Fang

I never knew one person could cause so much pain. I can't even remember how long it went on. There are bruises all over my body, and blood everywhere I can see. There is also blood in my mouth, I can taste the salt, there's a metallic flavor as well. No matter how hard I try, I cant get it out. I can't move; not that I would want to, moving would only cause more pain. I already feel as though I'm on fire. I can't believe I blacked out. Worse, I can't believe how long I stayed conscious before that. I'm surprised nothing's broken. There's a crash as the door slams open. I swear, he looks like angrier than a demon in its natural habitat. I had really hoped for at least five minutes without being hurt.

"I didn't do anything, I swear!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Seeing as I haven't answered any of the 17.2 questions Sherlock asked me so far, I'm not really sure which thing I haven't told him he's referring to. So I gave him what I hoped was a blank and completely clueless look.

"Stop playing games, Grace, I know it's you."

"Congratulations! You have successfully figured out my real name, what are you going to do next?"

Given the circumstances, sarcasm probably isn't the smartest response, especially seeing how well that worked out for me last time; but, I don't know what else to say.

"I thought I'd be glad to see you again; but, now, I wish we'd never met."

"OK, you got me. I am now utterly confused. What on earth are you talking about?"

"Don't you recognize me?"

I thought, I suspected, I might, maybe, possibly, at one point, have seen this person before. Maybe he was my cousin's pizza delivery boy. For some reason, I felt an irresistible urge to hide my face. It is as though some part of me knows that if I look at him now, I won't like what I see. Now, my curiosity has gotten the better of me. I force myself to look up. At first, I only see the cop I hate; but, then, I look into his eyes, and I see my best friend looking back.

"Turin?"

It comes out sounding like a question even though I already know the answer. He nods, just slightly. I can't believe this is true.

"I can't believe the things you've done. I can never forgive you. You're not the girl I used to care for. That was the past, this is the present. You are dead to me."

No. Why? He has no idea. I want to take everything back. The things he just said hurt far worse than anything he could have done to me. 'You are dead to me.' What could I say after that. I'm speechless. What more could he do to hurt me. I feel as though my heart stopped, and my blood is turned to ice, or fire; I can't really tell.

I know it's been hours since Turin left; but, his voice plays over and over in my mind, tearing at my heart. I can still see his face, different from the way it used to be, but still so much the same. He still has the same short, black hair, the same dark, honest eyes. But so much of him has changed. Through it all though, I can still see the boy I loved in the man who wants me dead.

All alone, in the cold, dark room, a thousand thoughts are running through my mind. Warm tears run down my face; they burn my cuts. Since my heart is already broken beyond repair, I want it ripped out, anything to make the pain stop.

Chapter 13 -ETB

Wow. I can't believe Turin was that hard on her. I expected him to be angry, surprised, probably even rude. No, that wasn't good enough, he had to go and beat the flippin snot out of her. Granted, that was before he figured out who she was; and, at that point, he thought she had killed his girlfriend, but still. I had expected that he would've gotten all the facts _before_ he started attacking, well, I guess innocent isn't really the word, but before attacking people, at any rate. Apparently, I underestimated the power of sheer, unadulterated rage mixed with hate.

I actually feel bad for Grace. I mean, goodness knows she can take a beating, but Turin pretty much told her that the world would be a better place if she died, particularly if she died a slow, painful death. I s'pose childhood friendships don't count for as much as they used to; and, promises made when one was young don't mean anything anymore. It's sad really.

I wish I could give Grace more time, but the game will go on, whether or not, I make my move. I still wish I could have spared her that pain, but it was an unavoidable loss. Now, for my ace-in-the-hole.

Chapter 14 -Marks

Every word I had said echoed in my head. The way she had looked at me, it was like she didn't even care. What did I ever see in her? I'm in my office, just thinking of all that had happened in the past few hours. I can't believe she didn't even say anything, didn't try to stop me, didn't say that I was wrong, that I had to understand. She just looked at me.

Suddenly, the alarm blared, jolting me from my reverie. Grace. Need I say more? I've run out of options. I'm going to have to kill her.

Chapter 15 -Fang

A small click sounds very loud when it is surrounded by complete and utter silence. My first thought: there are _not_ guns in here, dysfunctional or otherwise. My second thought: escape. My third thought: great as if it wasn't bad enough, I'm hallucinating. That's just wonderful. I rolled my arm around, trying to get rid of the horrible cramp in my shoulder. Wait, since when can I move my arms. Then, I finally got it. I can go now. Obviously there is a 'technical difficulty' because _no one_ would do this for me. Period. I stand up. Only to fall on my face. Turns out, when one stays in the same position for long periods of time, moving makes you extremely dizzy, and your limbs refuse to follow even the most simple commands, like moving, just for an example. What seems like a year later, I can finally feel blood in my legs. This only makes my injuries hurt more. Why is nothing ever just good? I've already had enough bad things happen to me today. Karma, hello, it's time for something good! Granted, I am out of the chair, so maybe I shouldn't complain too much.

Now that I can walk, I book it, realizing I will have to leave my possessions behind. Thank goodness I still have the detonator which I cleverly hid in my braid. I make it out the door, only to hear that an alarm is announcing my escape to the world. Great. That's just what I need. No pressure, you just have to evade all the cops in the city, oh and, by the way, you get to do it without any weapons.

I run down random hallways, looking for some kind of escape: one of those green exit signs, an unmarked exterior door, grief, I'd even go for a ground level window! Finally, I find just that. I open the window, see that it's not too far of a fall.

"Terminate retards."

The detonator beeped its acknowledgement of my command. I looked out into the night knowing that, with my cover blown, I can never come back.

"Freeze!"

Can I not make a getaway without him running in at the last minute, trying to be a hero. The building is collapsing for goodness sakes! Doesn't Turin see his imminent doom? It is in the form of a wall that is about to collapse. But I didn't think this until later. Now all I know is that everything is happening so fast. The wall cracks, and—giving up all hope of escape—I push Turin to safety, but I don't quite make it there myself. A filing cabinet lands on my leg. I hadn't thought I could be in any more pain, but I that just proved myself wrong. I'm trapped on the floor, as good as dead. I never thought I would die because of my won scheme, as I watch the building crumble around me.


	3. Chapter 3

Marks

I don't believe it. After everything I did to her, and after all the things I said, Grace saved my life. But, she's a danger to the world; I have to end it now. I put my gun against her head, knowing she isn't even conscious. She won't feel a thing. I have to do it. She's hurt too many people to be let live. But, as I see her lying there, helpless, I can't. I can't kill her like this, not when she doesn't even have the chance to fight back. It's like kicking a man when he's down. I'll get her out of here, then I'll kill her.


	4. Chapter 4

ETB

Yes, that's extremely noble. I'll save her and then kill her, once she's awake and can feel it. You are such a gentleman! Yeah, all the world will sing your praise. Oh well, my plan was rather hinging on that act of mercy. Although that last scene was definitely crucial, it didn't have to be quite so sappy, I mean really. Well, now they can go on their little trip to safety; and they should be getting the call fairly soon. I can't wait to see their faces then. Now all we need is to set the idea.


	5. Chapter 5

Fang

I awake to the sound of someone yelling into a phone. Wait, I shouldn't be hearing anything. I shouldn't even be alive. The yelling is giving me a headache. I can only hear one side of the conversation, and I really hope they aren't saying what I think they're saying.

"NO!"

"What on earth do you mean 'work together'?"

"I can't work with her!"

"Well where is she gonna stay? It's not like we can just set her loose."

"With me? Are you insane? She SHOT me!"

"Yes I do believe that she would do it again."

"But—"

"Fine. I understand. But I'm doing this under protest."

By this time, I've identified the voice as Turin's, and I do not like the way this sounds. I don't like it at all. I push myself into a sitting position. That is not as easy as one would think, given that my hands are tied.

"I didn't like what I heard of that conversation; and judging by the way you said she, I definately get the feeling I'm involved."

"Yes,"

Turin sounds rather as though he would like to strangle me.

"They are going to make us work together."

"You say what now?"

"I know you're mentally challenged, so let me make this simple. We have to work together to catch ETB, and you are going to help me whether you like it or not."

"I understand every single word in that sentence, and I hate every one."

"Deal with it. It's not as though I like this any more than you do; And there are no other options."

"Actually there are several options. Option one: I kill you."

"And, how exactly are you going to do that? Your hands are cuffed, and you have no gun, for that matter you have no weapon whatsoever."

"OK, I can work with that. Option number two: You hand me a gun, and I kill you."

"Not going to happen."

"Fine. Option number three: You shoot me. That gets us out of this whole 'working together' mess, and you can say I was trying to escape. Plus, I know you want to."

"That's very tempting, but I can't. If I'm going to shoot you, it'll be in the knee, or maybe the elbow, someplace that encourages your cooperation; and, I will enjoy that. Just give me a reason. Please."

"I don't like that option."

It continued like this for hours; it was awful! Then I noticed all those lovely buttons. Now I shall annoy him, and finally I have something to do.

"What does this button do?"

"Don't touch that.

"OK, what does this button do?"

"Don't touch that, either."

"Oh my gosh! A big, red, shiny button! What does this button do?"

"You really don't want to touch that."

I can't help myself. I push the button. He was right. An EMP pulse shoots out of his car. What kind of death machine am I in? A nearby car, that now has no power, crashes into a building.

"I'm gonna put my hands in my lap now."

"Good, because the next time you push a button, I'm going to break your fingers. Got it?"

We pulled up to some of the dingiest apartments I has ever seen. I mean, the guy drives an Audi r8 spider v10, the thing has bullet-proof glass, and indestructible frame, and seat warmers. It's a freakin tank! Yet, he lives...well...here...really?

I open the door, which is difficult when your hands are cuffed. I step out, and fall on my face. Great, as if this wasn't bad enough, now I'm humiliated too. Turin walks around the car.

"I'm going to have to carry you."

He doesn't look very happy.

"I can do it myself!"

"No, you can't. And, I'm not going to wait for you as you attempt to crawl pathetically up seven flights of stairs!"

"There's no elevator?"

"Does this place look like it has an elevator?"

After about five minutes of this, Turin just picks me up.

"Put. Me. Down. Now.

Needless to say, he completely ignores me. I try to get down, but every move hurts, and he's stronger than one would think.

"You know, the more you struggle, the more likely I am to drop you."

"That's the plan."

"And, when I say drop," He continues, "I mean throw onto the ground. Hard. On your face."

I shut up. It's just not worth the effort.

After what seems like an eternity, we reached his floor. To this day, I don't know how he opened the door, but he did. He also banged my leg into the door frame.

"OW! Fudge monkeys!"

"Sorry," He doesn't mean it, "I didn't see the thing there. Maybe if I hadn't been so distracted, I could have paid better attention."

There isn't really much I can say to that. I think I've taught him too well. I look around. This place is a dump. Click. A dump that I'm cuffed to.

"Really?"

"What, you think I'm going to let you loose in my house?"

"Um, yeah."

"Well you can forget it."

"But, I don't want to be chained to a couch all day!"

"Deal with it. You're a big girl, aren't you?"

"Big enough to kick your butt."

Turin walks out of the room, muttering furiously. I'm pretty sure I heard the words 'impossible' and 'immature' come out of his mouth, along with several others. Time to set my plan in action. I quickly begin my search. It's just as I expected, like most people, his couch is full of stuff. Under the cushions, I find quite a variety of interesting objects: a ballpoint pen, a half-empty box of tic tacs, five dollars in change, a lot of other junk, and then, finally—the one thing I'd been looking for—a paper clip.


	6. Chapter 6

Marks

Finally, I get a minute of peace and quiet. Then a gunshot rings throughout the apartment. What on earth is Grace getting into? I run through the house, towards the sound of the gun. If she's dead, I'm going to shoot whoever stole that pleasure from me. I'm sprinting to the kitchen, faster and faster, then—without any warning—the world flips around. Pain. As things return to focus, I look at the very bright light above me. It's funny, I always thought there was supposed to be a tunnel, or something like that. Then I realize, I'm staring at a light bulb. The one in my kitchen, to be exact.

"Grace!"

"I'm right here, you don't need to yell."

She is there, sitting, perched on top of my counter. I quickly take in the situation. My kitchen has been completely trashed, my food is strewn all over the counters, and she's eating my doritos, let me say it again. Grace has doritos, MY doritos.

"Grace, hand over the doritos. Now."

"Why? I'm not hurting anybody with them."

"Why are you eating my doritos? How did you get in here? How did you get uncuffed? And why am I wet? What kind of disaster happened to my kitchen?"

"I will answer your questions in the order that you asked them. I'm eating your doritos because I haven't had any in a long time and you'd be amazed at how hard it is to steal doritos without them getting crushed. I will answer the second and third questions together. I found a paper clip, and a bunch of other stuff—including a droid—, in your couch. Did I mention there's a gun application on the phone? Your wet because you've been lying in oil—which I found in your pantry—for the past ten minutes. And, as for the kitchen, I was hungry."

"Uuuhhh."

"What do you think would happen if I dropped this?"

That little brat has holing a lit match!

"Grace, don't even think about it."

She drops the match. I throw myself off the floor, with a speed I didn't know the human body could achieve, and caught the match, extinguishing it at the same time. While I was in the process of trying to prevent a city-wide fire, Grace had barricaded herself into my room. I can hear her through the door.

"You still buy these eagle shirts?"

"Grace, get out of my closet!"

"I found your laptop!"

"Well good luck figuring out my password!"

"Too late."

"What?"

"My name, really, it was my first try."

"Wha—how—bu—uhn."

"Just got into the Third Echelon database. Ever think about erasing your Internet history?"

"How did you get in there?"

"You neither need, nor want to know."

That was the last straw. I brace myself, and break down the door. I feel very satisfied when I hear a cry of pain. I run in and—before she can get back up—hit Grace, hard, on the back of the head.


	7. Chapter 7

Fang

I hear the sound of somebody unrolling duct tape. Black spots dance in front of my eyes. In a flash, it all comes back. The apartment, the oil, the doritos, the rules. I still can't see very well, so I try to figure out where the tape is by touch. I am strapped to a chair. One arm is taped to the back of the chair in what is anything but a comfortable position, and the other is in taped in front of me. I'm surprised to see that my fingers and hand are relatively loose. My legs are tied to the chair legs as well.

"Did you enjoy your little taste of freedom?"

Great, Turin has me tied up. And he sounds pretty mad.

"Why yes, yes I did. No thanks to you!"

"Well, you've had your fun, and now you get to pay for it."

He grabs for the hand that's not behind my back. Now I'm curious. What on earth is he trying to do? He grabs my finger, and jerks it backwards, hard and fast. It HURTS. Fingers were not meant to do that! Turin holds it there. He knows that this is incredibly painful. I get the definite impression that he is enjoying my pain. I won't show it though. I refuse to give him that satisfaction; but, he's not going to give. After what seems like an eternity, I inadvertently make a small noise. I can't help it; it just slips out.

"Eep."

That jerk smiles, and, for a moment, nothing changes. Then, he slowly releases my finger. The pain doesn't stop.

"Eep? Eep, that's all I get out of you is eep? Really?"

I can't think of anything to say. I'm embarrassed enough already. I mean, eep? What kind of thief says eep? It's pathetic.

"Is that all?"

"For now."

"Then, can you let me out?"

"Figure it out yourself. You seem to be very good at that."

"Wait, you can't just leave me here!"

"Watch me."

He turns to leave.

"No, you can't; it's against the rules!"

"What rules?"

"The rules I found on your computer."

"Crap. I forgot about those."

He sighs, then cuts me loose.

"Fine, but that's all you get."

"Wait, what about my ankle?"

"What about it?"

"It was damaged saving your life!"

"Fine, let me see."

"No, you give me the medical supplies, and I'll do it myself."

"You can't do a decent job bandaging you own ankle; it's impossible!"

I just glare.

"Look, I took a nursing class for two years. I know what I'm doing."

Five minutes later, I'm sitting on the couch, watching him as he actually does a fairly decent job on my ankle.

"There."

I put my foot back on the ground, where it belongs! He gets up, then kicks me as hard as he can.

"OW!"

"Sorry, didn't see you there."

His smirk says otherwise, but, there's nothing I can do.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 21 -ETB

This is very exciting. I do enjoy watching well-played violence. However, they do need to get moving. This is like a commercial break. Entertaining, but short. Everyone wants to get back to the real show, back to the game. Although, it really is a nice diversion. Just as long as they don't kill each other first. It is tiring though, allowing people to think they are competent hackers, when all they do is slow you down. Oh well, c'est la vie.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 22 -Marks

I love flash-bangs. They make a very loud, annoying noise followed by a continuous high pitched drone, as well as a very bright light. This overloads the senses, causing the brain to freeze. It also gives one a pretty decent headache. Grace is sleeping peacefully, she has no idea what I'm about to do. I throw the flash-bang at her, then quickly turned around and cover my ears. I have earplugs in, but it never hurts to be prepared. I hear a very muted bang, closely followed by a thud. I remove the earplugs. Grace in on the floor, it looks as if she fell off the couch. She's moaning softly, and holding her head.

"What is wrong with you? That is _not_ how you wake up a lady!"

"Well, you're definitely not that. So, it's completely unrelated to the topic at hand."

She groans.

After a few hours, food, and a shower (all for her), we're finally ready to go. I forgot how long it takes girls to take a freakin shower! After a while, I started banging on the door.

"Grace, hurry up!"

"Go away! I'm going as fast as is humanly possible."

"How long can it take to take a freakin shower?"

"Well, when you've been on the streets as long as I have, you'd be amazed at how much dirt gets in your hair!"

"Um, not really."

"Well, if you had hair."

"I have hair, it's just short!"

"Grace, come _on_."

"**GO AWAY!**"

Yeah, that's how well that went. Now she's out, it took long enough, and she still wants more.

"I need some new clothes."

"Why? You look fine."

"Is that an actual compliment? I'm flattered. Not."

"Well, I meant there's just no need to get any new clothes."

"Yes, there is."

"No."

"OK, rule #13 'Meet requirements of asset' and I require clothes."

"No you don't!"

"Clothes, or I will do _nothing_ that could, in any way, be useful."

"Fine."

So we drive to the store. I swear she tried on every single outfit in the freakin place! Then, she asked for my opinion on every single one! As if I even _care_! Finally, she's got it down to three outfits.

"What about this one?"

"It's fine."

She goes back into the changing room, comes back a few minutes later.

"How about this one?"

"It's fine."

"You've said that for the last ten outfits, I need something else!"

"It looks good. Better?"

"You are no help at all!"

"They all look the same! Every single one of them is black!"

"What do you mean? The last one had wings on the back, didn't you notice?"

"No?"

"You're such a guy!"

"Yeah,no kidding!"

Cruel and unusual punishment. Enough said. I've been sitting here, on a plastic bench, next to the dressing rooms for hours. I swear, I never knew that shopping could be so horrible!

"So how's this one?"

Will it never end? I realize that I've not been paying proper attention to my surroundings. There are four thugs standing around us. Great, this is just great, as if I didn't have enough to deal with. We're in the middle of a freaking store for goodness sakes. Oh well, at least this might mean an end to 'outfits' and 'opinions'. I can tell that Grace has seen them too; she has that look in her eyes, the same one she had when I slipped on oil. It's cross between mischief, pure evil, and the knowledge that if you don't fear her, you very soon will. Apparently, she doesn't understand the concept of assessing the situation. Grace never takes the time to think things through. Impatient doesn't even begin to cover it. So, Grace slams her hands—hard—over the ears of assailant #1 leaving him dazed, confused, and out of the equation. O quickly scan the situation, three against two, and I have no weapons. I didn't bring my gun for fear that Grace would steal it. Assailant #2 attempts to charge me. Pathetic, truly, I step out of the way, and—before he has time to recover—kick his knee out of place. He falls, and moans in pain. I think this one's had enough. So on to assailant #3. From the corner of my eye, I watch as Grace takes out assailant #4 with a chop to the neck, wow, no mercy. Assailant #3 has actually learned something from all this, or maybe he just has a bit more cautious of a personality, but whatever the reason, he hangs back a bit, waiting for me to make the first move. I am happy to oblige, twisting my fist as I bring it up into his gut. I look around, but they're all on the floor. I feel a sharp pain my shoulder, but it's nothing.

I place a call, Arnold answers, and is—as always—happy to come pick up some crooks.

"Oh, so now they're out, you call for back up?"

"It's not back up!"

"Well, what is it then?"

"A clean-up crew."

"What is there to clean up?"

"Do you see the four thugs crying on the floor?"

"Yeah, I see 'em, what about it?"

"Well we're not just going to leave them here!"

"Why not?"

"Because they are criminals who need to be locked up, and because we like to leave a room as clean as we found it. Don't you remember kindergarten?"

"Of course I remember kindergarten. I poked people with sticks during nap time."I sigh.

"Come on, we're going to go home now."

"Wait, you mean to that dump that you live in?"

"I don't have the time or the patience to trade insults with you."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 23 -Fang

I really hate driving with cops, because they always follow the speed limit.

"Can't we go any faster"

"No, I don't feel like being arrested today."

"But, you're only going 35 miles per hour!"

"Yes, Grace, because that's the speed limit!"

"But, this is a sports car, it was made to go fast! You are depriving it of what it needs."

"I am not going to speed!"

"You have to think about it like horse, it needs to go fast, it can't be contained."

"What part of 'no' do you not understand?"

"The part where I don't get what I want."

We drive in silence for a few minutes, then his radio decides to do the strangest thing; it randomly turns itself on, but I swear, nobody touched it! Not only that, but it starts playing some lame commercial for shorts. It's the middle of November people!

So we get to Turin's apartment, and it turns out he lost his keys.

"Really?"

"I must have lost them during the fight."

"That's not a very good excuse."

"There's only one window, and it's locked."

"You lock your windows?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Do you think the world is out to get you?"

"No! Just criminals."

"Move."

"What are you doing?"

"My job."

I fish the paper clip out of my pocket, and start jiggling it in the lock. Just a little fun fact, locks have pins in them, if you align the pins you can open the door.

"You still have the paper clip?"

"Be prepared. That's my motto."

"What are you, a freaking boy scout?"

He of course, had wanted to be a boy scout.

"No! I'm Scar, you know, from the Lion King."

"So, what you're saying is that your power-hungry, dangerous, psychotic, and ugly?"

"Ugly?"

"i don't mean to say that you're ugly, just that—uh—Scar—lion— cartoon—"

"Yeah, I got it, you can shut up now."

The door springs open. He walks in.

"Oh, uh Turin, your shoulder is bleeding."

"It's nothing, I got nicked by something."

"No, you're bleeding. A lot."

"There's a first aid kit in the kitchen."

"You keep your food? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Would you just get it."

I got the kit and came back.

"Well?"

"Well what?"  
>"You need to take your shirt off."<p>

He gives me a horrified look.

"I am _not_ doing that!"

"Your back is wounded, how else would you suggest I deal with this?"

"Bu—bu—but"

"Do you want to die?"

"No."

"Then take off your shirt!"

He does, he's blushing so hard, he could be mistaken for a tomato.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 24 -Marks

I can't believe I have no shirt. Not only that, but I'm allowing Grace—_Grace_ of all people—to be behind me—where I can't see her—with a knife. For all I know, she could be making it worse! I'm beginning to seriously question my judgment on this issue. She steps around, so that she's facing me. I don't like the look on her face one bit; she actually looks concerned, and that scares me more than anything.

"Do you feel dizzy, nauseas, sleepy, or like your going to puke?"

"Nausea and feeling like puking are the same thing."

"That's beside the point. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Grace holds up five fingers

"Five."

"OK, how about now?"

She must think I'm stupid or something, because she is still holding up five fingers, she didn't even move her hand.

"Five, Grace."

"Wow, you are really lucky. Did you know that?"

"What?"

"Do you know exactly what got into you?"

"No, how could I?"

She goes on as if I hadn't said a word.

"This is from a Poison Dart Frog. Basically, if it had gotten into your system, it would have quickly traveled through your bloodstream and stopped your heart. It would have been extremely painful, and you would be dead. The needle was a millimeter away from your artery. You are very lucky."

"You know way to much about things that can kill me."

"That is my job, Sherlock."

There is a familiar buzzing sound. Grace pulls out her phone—i have to remember to get that back from her—and looks at the screen. She keys in a quick response.

"What was that?"

She shows me the text, I already know who it's from.

I just love frogs, don't u? Btw hows ur friend?

-ETB

Hes fine no thx 2 u

-/3

"Why would you say that?"

"What do you mean?"

"He thought I was dead, we could have used that to our advantage!"

"How could you being dead be even slightly good?"

"I'm not dead, but if he thought I was, we could have surprised him."

"You're not making any sense!"

"It's simple strategy. Ugh, you know what, I'm going to teach you to think. Come on, we're going to play chess."

"Do you want to put on a shirt first?"

Several horrible hours and over a million questions later, we sit, the board set in front of us, as she tries—yet again—to understand the roles that the pieces play.

"So this one with the crown, that's the emperor; and the one with the plus sign thing on its head is like the emperor's general. The rest of these dudes on the back row are like the emperor's general's apprentices; and all those munchkin guys in the front, those are like just a random, loyal army, right?"

"Not really, but I think that's as close as you're going to get."

This is terrible, she can't get even the most simple of concepts!

"Grace you can't put two pieces on the same square."

"But, I want the little midget dude to go in the castle."

"It is not a castle, it is a rook, and you can't do that."

"Well, then can I make him ride the horse?"

"No, you cannot put your pawn on your knight."

"I don't want to put him on the knight, I want to put him on the horse."

"The horse is the knight, Grace."

"No it's not, it's just a horse, it's not even a whole horse, it's jut a horse's head."

"Grace, it's not a scale model, you have to use your imagination a little bit, OK."

Not only that, but...

"Grace, you can't move that one, it's my piece."

She reaches for another

"That is also my piece."

"Fine."

"Here's a hint: all the white pieces are mine."

She is unbelievable! Jackson—my dog—comes running through at this point, scattering the pieces in all directions.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 25 -Fang

I really hate this game, there are so many rules, and you can't do _anything_, plus, there's no fighting! What kind of fighting game has no fighting? It's not even like the Harry Potter thing, where they smash each other to bits. Chess is the worst game ever created! I'm thinking about tackling Turin, that would end the game for sure, but he might decide to break my arm. I have decided now, that it is worth the risk. Before I can act though, what seems to be a furry tank beats me to it, barreling through and sending the torture devices flying in all directions. The tank turned out to be a bullmastiff.


End file.
